


a perfect stranger

by mfoer



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Maybe a bit of angst but it's all fine in the end i promise, More Fluff, Smut, Very original scenario of meeting on the tube
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-14 21:32:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14145009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mfoer/pseuds/mfoer
Summary: Newt meets a cute American guy on the tube and things are moving forward quickly with the two of them. Maybe even too quickly.





	1. I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, um, hey to whoever's reading it, i love you!
> 
> this is still in progress, but i decided to post it to keep myself going and get more motivated (even though i already love these dorks too much & that should be enough)
> 
> it's also probably the longest work i've written since god knows how long, so yeah. i'll just shut up and go now

Newt wasn’t usually the one to go everywhere with his headphones on. Sure, he loved music, but not when it came to taking a tube or a bus. It just seemed wrong somehow. The pace and the sounds were just soothing to him, and he didn’t want to block them out.

It was a perfect time to be in your thoughts, to travel from reality to somewhere else for a bit.

So yeah, maybe he found something magical in something very mundane as the Tube. But he didn’t really care.

One thing he learned the hard way, though, was that the headphones could literally save lives sometimes. His own, in particular.

That was the perks of living with Minho, who was sometimes a bit too loud when he brought home some boy or a girl.

But it was actually Minho who showed him a lot of new music. Artists and songs he wouldn’t search for himself, not in a million years.

And it felt nice to mix something ‘edgy’ or ‘this shit is dope, man, that’s what every popular kid is listening to’ – as Minho called it – in his own playlist. Which mostly consisted of classics like Elvis or Queen.

He didn’t want to tell Minho that trying to be like popular kids was not exactly their both option when they were both in their mid-20s, but what the hell. He actually liked these tunes, they were pretty relaxing.

So here he was, listening to new album by The Weeknd, betraying his own habit of no music on the Tube. It was a nice change.

What he didn’t expect was that someone would sit right next to him and say with American accent, “Heey, it’s this new Weeknd’s song. I love it so much.”

The sound was not so loud in his headphones, which meant that either this passenger was a mind-reader or had some sort of super hearing. Newt was a bit baffled by the situation, he usually didn’t talk to anyone on the Tube. So he just managed a quiet, “Sorry?”

“I said the song you’re listening to is pretty dope.” Newt finally took in the stranger’s features and was a bit taken aback by his face. Well, it was a handsome face, no doubt. But the messy hair that was all over the place made it also kind of sweet and innocent.

Which was not a good thing to notice at a first glance at somebody.

He punched himself mentally and finally managed to form an answer, “That was my friend who showed it to me, actually.”

“Well, your friend has good taste in music. But I bet he’s not as cute as you,” this stranger was now smiling at him lightly.

He usually couldn’t stand these cheesy pick-up lines, but somehow coming from this guy it seemed different. Somehow more genuine and not so pretentious.

He took one more glance at him, making note of a slight lines under warm brown eyes that were looking at him attentively, as if afraid to miss something, any little detail. That stare alone could’ve made him melt inside a bit.

Oh, what the hell. We all have only one life to live, haven’t we?

He bit his lip, more unconsciously, as if to try out his options, trying not to scare the guy away by just talking some nonsense like he knew he often did.

“And I bet you cheated there somehow. Because nobody would be able to hear what I was listening to at the volume it was set too,” he said, watching the reaction.

“You got me, man,” the stranger chuckled. “I just saw the album cover on your phone, it’s sort of hard to miss, you know? With all these bright colors.”

“Please don’t think that I’m some weirdo,” he continued after a pause. “I just really wanted to talk to you. I just felt that I would regret for a thousand years if I didn’t talk to you.”

“I won’t think you’re a weirdo if you’ll stop with these cheesy lines, okay?”

“I just can’t help it,” he smiled. “But I’ll try.”

“I’m Thomas, by the way,” he extended a hand toward him. It was so warm and somehow, Newt felt so secure all of a sudden and just _right_. Which didn’t make any sense, because come on. He didn’t even know the guy.

“I’m Newt,” he smiled in response, and oh, okay. His _‘I’m a sucker for cute boys’_ side has entered the stage and now was taking over, apparently.

“So, um, Newt, I’ll just be bold and guess that you just finished you work and you’re free now. So do you want to have coffee or something? I know a good place not far from the next station.”

So, it turned out he was not the only one who decided to take the bull by the horns here.

“Actually, I make the best coffee ever, you know,” he licked his lips as he said that, and no, he wasn’t slightly blushing from his own straight-forwardness right now, what are you even talking about?

“Is that a subtle invitation to your place? I knew I picked the perfect stranger to talk to,” Thomas slightly pocked him in his right knee, a playful look in his eyes. Newt suddenly felt hot, and the fact that Thomas’ thigh was a bit too close to his own wasn’t helping either.

“We actually kind of need to get off now if you want to accept this invitation. Which was not subtle at all, by the way, but thank you for making me feel better about it.”

They got off the train and made their way through the crowd to the escalators. Thomas was leaning on it, standing one step higher than Thomas, and he turned all his body to face him, “So, what other great songs do you listen to?”

They made small talk all the way to Newt’s flat, which was only a mere 200 or so meters away from the station. And flirted, like _a lot_.

And it somehow felt different, not so cheap as when other guys tried to flirt with him, or when he was interested in it himself. He usually did it just to hook up, because the relationship didn’t work out anyway, and there was even no point trying.

So today was more of a reflex, talking sweet things to the sweet guy next to him, while his insides were gripped by some sort of irrational fear of fucking things up at the same time, which came out of the blue.  

But he was just overthinking the situation like he always did. The situation which was pretty simple.

He now had a hell of a hot guy in his flat. That said guy now has taken off his jacket and oh, boy. Those veins that were tracing his arms were unbelievable. He would literally kill for these veins.

Newt swallowed hard, forcing himself not to stare at this magnetic spectacle for too long. He screamed at his brain to come up with at least something to say.

“So, how do you take your coffee? Milk, sugar?”

But he could switch off his brain for now and not think at all, because Thomas took two steps in his direction, and they were almost breathing the same air now. “I had something else in mind, actually,” he said, licking his lips, and practically devoured Newt with his eyes, checking his body out from head to toes.

Newt didn’t know who started the kiss, probably both of them, because they couldn’t stand the heated atmosphere and the chemistry in the air. All he knew was that things escalated pretty quickly and it was ecstatic in so many ways. Newt was now pinned to the couch as Thomas sat on his hips, their bodies pressed together tightly. It was so hot, as if temperature in the room went up suddenly, and Thomas’ lips and tongue licking and sucking on his neck weren’t exactly helping. He gave up to the urge of getting his fingers through these messy hair, drawing small circles on Thomas’ head. And Thomas actually shivered a bit to that and hummed something in approval.

It was slow as they both were not in a hurry, and that’s exactly the way he liked it. Attentive, caring, and just perfect.

When Thomas tilted his head, moving away from Newt’s neck, and they made eye contact, Newt felt like he could drown in these honey eyes. Literally. The way Thomas looked at him was not something he’s seen in a long time – wanting, but so gentle at the same time. Like he was admiring some sort of masterpiece.

Newt’s fingers made way to Thomas’s hair again, but now he was gently moving hair on his forehead that were slightly covering his eyes.

Thomas took his hand in his own, smiled mischievously and began to lick his forefinger slowly. He wasn’t breaking eye contact and Newt could swear the bloody asshole enjoyed teasing him like that.

His whole body now felt on fire.

“So you enjoy putting up a show, huh?” he breathed out hoarsely, not recognizing his own voice.

“I just couldn’t resist those aristocratic fingers of yours,” Thomas murmured, adding another finger, and licking them seductively, making the whole scene even more unbearable. And oh, God. Newt immediately thought of what it would be like to have these soft lips and tongue on his dick.

Thomas let go of his fingers and began thrusting his hips slowly, creating a perfect friction. Newt let out a low groan and didn’t recognize his own voice again.

With an impossible effort of will he managed to stop himself and get up, Thomas clinging to him tightly and so apparent in not wanting to move away even for a second.

So he just took Thomas, who apparently was not as heavy as he thought, in his arms, strong legs swirling around his own body.

And just like that, the two of them kissing feverishly like they didn’t need any air to breathe at all, Newt carried Thomas to his bedroom.


	2. II

Waking up was not Newt’s favorite part of the day. It was a bit hard to get his head in the right place for a new day and prepare for some routine and tasks at hand. But still, he usually managed somehow.

Except for this morning. This morning was just a complete catastrophe. After he woke up, Newt’s mind was still blank for a couple of seconds. But before he knew it, it practically was flooded with images and memories of last night and this guy he met on the tube, who had just the best looks, eyes, hands, and, well, basically the best everything.

The problem was that Newt was now alone in his bed. The bed where they fucked maybe too many times yesterday, and it was absolutely glorious.

They definitely dozed off together, and Newt remembered mumbling something to Thomas, saying that he could stay for the night if he wanted to. And he also remembered how good it was to falling asleep to these strong and warm arms wrapped around him.

But apparently, it was not so special for Thomas.

Newt forced himself to get up, when he heard some sounds coming from kitchen.

Minho was already up and making fried eggs and toasts.

“Woah, someone looks like he had fun last night,” he said, smiling playfully and pointing to the mess which was Newt’s hair now. Not to say that it was perfect at all other times, but still. Minho somehow managed to tell when it was the usual mess of just sleeping versus the mess of sleeping with someone else in his bed.

“Yeah, apparently, I had a bit more fun that I should’ve,” Newt sighed, taking a chair opposite Minho, who now was finishing serving the plates. He rubbed his eyes a bit too aggressively, forcing them to at least try to stay open.

“Considering the last time you brought someone home was… Well, I can’t even remember, so that’s definitely a long time ago,” Minho laughed, sitting in his chair, and his good mood for once wasn’t infectious but somehow pointed out Newt’s misery even more. “So, I’d say you completely earned to have at least one night of fucking your brains out. Pardon my French.”

That made smile Newt smile weakly, but he decided there was no point keeping the fact that he fucked up completely yesterday a secret.

“The only problem is that… Well, I think I was too stupid and rushed everything. We talked for like half an hour and already jumped in each other’s arms,” he tasted the coffee Minho’s made and sipped a bit. The bitter rich taste was so good and sobering, that it assured him that this whole situation was not exactly the end of the world. So that was at least something.

“I mean, the sex was good. It was amazing, actually,” Newt frowned, as images of Thomas flooded his mind again.

“Were you safe?” Minho asked, eyeing him suspiciously. “It isn’t often that you jump into some stranger’s arms like you say you did. Or more like _never_ , so…”

Newt practically choked on his coffee, spilling some of it.

“Min, seriously? How long have we known each other? Of course we were safe. And yeah, I very much enjoy the company of strangers from time to time, there's no shame in that. You should know that,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. Minho just chuckled at that quietly and let him continue. 

“Anyway. He... Thomas, his name is Thomas. He must’ve left early in the morning, because I woke up to an empty bed. So much for spontaneous decisions and this whole… what do kids call it, YOLA?”

“YOLO, You Live Only Once,” Minho smiled at him, crunching on a toast.

“Yeah, right. The thing is, he just talked to me and it felt like I was standing next to Jude Law or something. I must’ve drooled like a teenager. So embarrassing.”

“Well, he obviously didn’t think of it that way. If you guys ended up here,” Minho said firmly and then paused, the look on his face like he was some famous detective on a new case. Except he seemed to already know the answer. Newt was living with a goddamn Sherlock, great.

“So, you just met a guy and actually liked him, so much that you brought him home. But he left after that and you know nothing about him except his name. I’m not saying that he’s a bad guy, because we can’t know for sure what’s on his mind. But maybe he got his reasons for leaving.”

He was able to just nod weakly at that.

“But judging by the look on your face, he's pretty special, so let’s just assume that’s he’s not a bad guy for starters,” Minho paused, finishing his coffee. “Do you remember the route?”

“You mean on the tube? Yeah, it was the usual one I take home. Wait, what are you — “

“Then I suggest you stop sulking and start searching for your Prince Charming, buddy,” and with that Minho was out of the room, leaving Newt with a head full of buzzing thoughts.


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was writing that to 'Khalid - Let's go', if you'd like some soundtrack.  
> i plan on posting some other songs that are sort of connected with this work in my head as i add new chapters, so stay tuned for more :)

A couple of weeks later Newt realized that everything was a mess. Well, technically everything in his life was still the same. He was going to work, buying groceries, doing the dishes. Minho behaved like always, they hung out after work, and he didn’t bring up the “Prince Charming” again, so it was quite relieving. Or not. He couldn’t decide if he’d rather listen to Minho’s advice – even if it was something weird – or to his own buzzing thoughts.  

So, everything was the same, except it wasn’t. He just felt that a huge part was missing. And yes, there was no point in lying to himself and denying that this part was a guy he met on the tube and had sex with immediately after. Good work, keep it up. “You deserve a medal,” he was swearing to himself for probably a hundredth time.

This whole time he also has had a bitter taste on his lips that he couldn’t wash away neither with toothpaste nor with cigarettes.

And one morning it finally hit him. It was not a bitter taste as something tangible, but more of a feeling. It was the goddamn absence of Thomas’ lips on his own.

Newt had never read any romance novels, but he felt like he was most definitely inside one now. Or more like that his feelings were. Because it was impossible to miss somebody that much. Somebody that you only spent one night with.

After all the shit he’d gone through in his past relationships he thought he’d never be able to feel something like this for another person again. Only something physical, no strings attached, to feel the warmth of other person against his own, to find comfort in somebody’s arms. Release the tension after work and allow himself to relax.

But not this time. This time he felt it all and more. And he secretly wished that the gates of Hell itself would open and take him in, because it was honestly impossible to live with all these thoughts.

One night Minho and him went to the pub in the center of the city they both were used to. It was quite small and not crowded, and there were no any weird types hanging out there, everyone seemed completely normal. They played some good music too and it wasn't so loud, so it was typically suitable to have a conversation without having to shout like crazy.

Maybe being around people other than his colleagues and drink his way to the bottom of a couple of whiskey glasses would finally allow him to relax and let go of this whole stupid situation.

As they entered this dimly lit place, Newt actually felt himself beginning to relax already. The buzzing of the conversation and just the presence of other people seemed to help a lot.

They headed for the bar to order, making their way through other people’s bodies.

“So, how long are you going to be in this weird trance of yours?” Minho asked him immediately as they sat on two stools next to each other.

“What trance exactly are you talking about?” Newt answered, starting to tap his fingers on the bar counter in some erratic rhythm. He avoided Minho’s gaze, hoping that if he pretends that he has no idea what his friend is talking about he’ll just change the topic.

“You know, the one you’ve been since you met that guy on the tube. You didn’t think I wouldn’t notice, did you?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it that…”

“So, what would you call it? Sure, everything seems fine on the outside, because you’ve been doing everything like a robot. But I sometimes catch your eyes and it’s like you stare into the void, which is a bit scary, to be honest, buddy.”

“It’s not exactly that I have any choice on the matter,” he breathed out, feeling frankly pathetic. The bartender placed their drinks in front of them and Newt took the cool glass in his hand, taking a sip of bitter liquid. “It’s just my brain acting all weird.”

He finally looked up at Minho, and saw a warm and understanding smile on his face.

“You have a choice, my man, you have. And I told you that the morning after this whole affair. You just have to find him,” Minho took a big sip from his glass and didn’t even frown. “And forget about all this ‘no relationship’ business. Stop living in the past. Whatever bullshit you had then doesn’t define your future.”

Minho was not exactly the Dalai Lama or any guru with an infinite wisdom in his hands. But shit. In this couple of sentences, he managed to describe exactly what Newt’s been doing this past couple of years. Just loading himself with work and occasionally having sex with people he barely knew to create an illusion that he’s not completely alone, and that was about it.

But it made no sense as to why Minho was suddenly so sure that Thomas was the love of his life.

Newt wanted to laugh loudly when he realized what his life has turned into. Discussing his love life (or more like, the complete lack of it) in a pub with his friend.  

“Min, wait. Why are you even saying this? I mean, not about my bloody behavior now, because I know perfectly well it’s childish. I mean Thomas… he just left in the morning. Doesn’t it mean it was just a one-night stand for him?”

“I'm saying this because I know you, buddy. And you wouldn’t get all worked up because of somebody just because they have a pretty face. So I’m pretty confident what you two had there was completely mutual,” with that, Minho finished his glass with one big gulp.

“Man, it’s not some quantum physics, it’s all pretty easy. If he acted like you were just his one-night stand, you wouldn’t sulk like that for two weeks now, would you?”

No, he wouldn’t. Newt didn’t know what to answer to that so he just quietly nodded, smiling. The alcohol helped to relax, and let go of this gripping feeling of anxiety in his stomach that he has had on and off for two weeks now.

And he also had completely no idea what he would do without Minho.

They changed the topic and just chatted about everything and nothing like always, and Newt decided to not think about this whole Thomas business for now and just allow himself to laugh, talk and enjoy this evening. Until someone sat on Newt’s right side. He felt the stare on himself, and turned his head only to see a cute redhead guy smiling at him.

“Hey,” he said, and Newt smiled back. At this exact moment Minho swore and exhaled angrily, glancing at his phone.

“Shit, when will Brenda stop drinking her ass of like it’s her last day on Earth? I’m so fed up with rescuing her every time like some goddamn knight in shining armor.”

“Just go, take her home, it’ll be fine. And you _are_ her knight,” Newt said, turning back to Minho and clapping him on the shoulder. These two had such a strange friendship, but it seemed they wouldn’t change it for anything.

Minho left abruptly, leaving some pounds behind so Newt could pay for both of them. So he was left with a cute redhead, and as whiskey already has made way down his veins and all, he decided that what the hell. He might as well try to wash away this whole fucking situation with Thomas not only with alcohol, but with this guy. Somehow it felt like Minho wouldn’t approve of this decision, because Newt was doing exactly the opposite of what he’s advised him to do, but he honestly could care less.

The redhead didn’t seem to mind, not in the slightest, judging by how tightly he hugged him on the waist as they walked out of the pub. It felt so vaguely wrong, but Newt stopped this trail of thoughts before it started to unveil, and just took them to his apartment.

They started kissing hungrily as soon as the front door closed. The guy was impatient and usually that was the way Newt liked it, but not tonight. The quick and demanding moves of his lips and arms left Newt almost dumbfounded.

He felt like a whole bucket of ice water has been knocked over his head. It was wrong, it was all so fucking wrong. What the hell was he even doing?

He pushed the guy away from him, and steadied them both, apologizing quietly, “Wait, wait, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking straight… I can’t do this, I’m with someone else.”

He waited for some swearing or even that he will be pushed or punched, but instead the other guy just smiled, calming his breath.

“It’s cool, man, no worries. Although you’re hella hot, so I’m kinda disappointed.”

He couldn’t help but smile to that.

“Thanks, man, you’re too.”

The redhead winked at him and left, closing the door.

And well, it was just a slip of tongue when Newt said he was with someone else. Or was it? Apparently, his brain just loved saying some dumb shit, yeah, that must've been it.


	4. IV

Going out on a work day was definitely a bad idea. Even the fact that he practically dragged himself to the kitchen to drink some water to help with dehydration before falling asleep didn’t help much. He still felt out of place and a bit dizzy when he went to work in the morning, after having some sandwiches and coffee for breakfast. Because his stomach most definitely couldn’t handle anything else at that point.

And it wasn’t fair at all that Minho was looking like he had a good eight-hour sleep, when he only heard him returning at about 4 am.

Or maybe he felt like shit because of his insomnia and that he only slept for three or four hours this couple of weeks. Thank God Minho didn’t notice how he slipped to the balcony every night to have a smoke. He could imagine the lecture he would give him pretty vividly. Like a mother hen who was so overreacting that it would be embarrassing to both of them. But no, Minho would more likely just stay up with him and they’d try to work out something together so that Newt could fix his sleeping pattern.

No matter how good that sounded, he didn’t want to let Minho inside of this idiotic romance novel that his feelings were at that point. He had too much shit of his own to deal with. Newt knew he had some problems at work, his boss always snapping at him and behaving like he was the worst legal advisor ever. He almost wanted to make his way over there and either make Minho quit, because he was perfectly able of scoring a top notch position in some other firm. Or just to shout at Minho’s boss and then make him quit, he couldn’t decide on one of these two options.

So he pretended to follow Minho’s plan about looking for Thomas, so he wouldn’t worry or ask him again about his strange dazed behavior. When in reality he was just trying to live his life like nothing has ever happened.

Going back home from work that day was a total blessing because he drank some more coffee in the office and even that didn’t help. So his plans for the evening were pretty clear, just to get wrapped up in a blanket and watch something stupid on his laptop. And pray that he falls asleep, because if he doesn’t, it’d be a solid chance his life would turn into Fight Club. That would be a total blast.

Just as Newt was imagining what it would be like to hallucinate a friend that nobody else sees and really go crazy like it was in Fight Club, he felt someone clapping him on his thigh like one would do to an old friend.

“Hey there, stranger.”  

Newt practically jumped to his feet from surprise of hearing that voice. He turned his head only to see the familiar dark-honey eyes stare at him and a warm smile. Of course it was Thomas.

Newt felt something inside flip, and just hoped it was a real Thomas and not a creation of his mind, which would be very ironic, thank you.

“Hey to you too,” he answered calmly, trying to slow down his breath, deciding that if Thomas was playing it cool, he’d do too.

“Going home?”

Thomas was now sitting so close to him, their knees almost touching, and Newt didn’t know if it would be better if they actually did touch or not.

“Yeah, you know, to my boring apartment to do something boring like always,” Newt answered and realized that it sounded so absurd. Like they were just two friends catching up and Thomas knew everything about his routine, when in fact they both obviously didn’t know anything about each other at all.

“Care for a coffee? Such a shame we didn’t get it before, so maybe now is a good time?”

Thomas’ presence felt almost electrifying and a bit too much just like the last time, but something changed. It felt like he was more calm and steady now, somehow.

Newt must’ve thought too long before answering, because Thomas continued, “Without going to your place or mine, you know. Just… coffee,” he looked down at that, avoiding Newt’s gaze.

Suddenly Newt realized he was not the only one who was nervous. Thomas was just better at hiding it, it seemed.

“I know just the place,” he smiled broadly, his heart thumping a bit too enthusiastically in his chest.

And with that, they made their way out of the tube.


	5. V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heey, so here are some new chapters, super short again, haha  
> i just can't make them longer  
> hope you like it! 
> 
> soundtrack:  
> Moses Sumney - Dwell In the Dark

As they were walking to the coffee shop Newt often found himself in, he realized that if he doesn’t know anything about Thomas, that he can start with something simple then. For example, how he takes his coffee. He didn’t get the answer last time, after all.

It was also some kind of an idiotic ritual in his life, a way of getting to know people. He felt he couldn’t trust somebody who didn’t like coffee, for starters.

And the way someone drank coffee said a lot about them. Minho made good strong coffee, but drank it in big gulps, like he was in a hurry, even when it was weekend and they could relax in the morning. He didn’t like milk or sugar in it and Brenda often mocked him and called it a ‘manly and brutal’ way of drinking coffee.

His other friend and colleague Teresa often had latte with a lot of sugar or syrup, and sometimes with cinnamon on top of that. Sometimes she liked a Frappuccino with a lot of whipped cream, and it seemed so childish but somehow suited her. The place next to their office didn’t have that on the menu though, but he suspected that if they did Teresa’s daily routine would change considerably.

Newt usually drank cappuccino, or just any coffee with milk and without sugar. Caffeine had the most pleasant effect on his body and mind, so he didn’t see the point in giving up on this habit.

“So, we got too caught up in the moment last time when I tried to make you coffee,” he said as they reached the coffee shop, Newt leading the way.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Thomas chuckled as he stepped in front of Newt to open the door for him, holding it gallantly and saluting Newt with a hand. “After you, my noble lord.“

“God, you’re insufferable,” Newt growled quietly, more to himself, but Thomas still heard him.

“You love it, don’t even try to deny it.”

Newt felt a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

“I actually tried to ask you what would you like to drink, before you decided to act like you’re this misunderstood gentleman.”

“I am a gentleman! And you do look like a nobleman or a prince, so it’s only fair that I behave.”

Thomas continued with his bravado by helping Newt with his chair and to take his jacket off, and every time either their hands touched or Thomas’ fingers brushed his own skin for a bit too long. And no matter how hard Newt tried to act annoyed, he still couldn’t help but smile. He loved every second of this skin contact with Thomas that he felt he paid a bit too much attention to. He couldn’t have thought of a better way to touch somebody in public if he didn’t want it to look scandalous himself, so yeah, that was genius of Thomas. Even though with all this teasing he honestly began to feel like he wanted to push him against the wall – or anything, really – and just kiss him to death.

They ordered their coffees – it turned out that Thomas liked cappuccinos too – and choose the table in the corner. The place was not so big, only about a dozen tables, but still cozy. There was this sort of bar table right next to the window with high stools which was just the best for working on your laptop, and Newt often sat there when he was alone.

 

“So, my dear gentleman, care to tell me what you do for a living?”

“Um, it’s a bit complicated, actually. I work for this startup, programming there but also kind of involved with web design a bit. Not a lot of people there, so we all kinda share the tasks at hand,” Thomas explained, sitting across from Newt, his body relaxed, which was a good sign. He also tried to act casual and not to show any nervousness he had, but didn’t know if it actually worked or not. He probably looked more like a lost kitten right now, to be honest.

Because he still couldn’t believe they bumped into each other just like that. It was like he prayed and asked God to meet this guy that he couldn’t stop thinking about. But he was not religious. Or like he made a wish and it suddenly came true. But he wasn’t making wishes probably since he was 12. He actually thought he would never see Thomas again, because, well. Newt was always a realist and this kind of thing just didn’t happen in real life.

Except, well, it turned out that it did.

“And what’s this startup about?”

Newt tried hard to not reflect on the whole situation right now and not overthink it, and just go with the flow. Which was a bit hard when he was practically melting from the sight of Thomas. He wanted to slap himself or to splash his face with some cold water, because it really was stupid as hell. He didn’t feel about anybody that way in what felt like forever. The last time must’ve been high school and his stupid crush on the most popular guy in his class that would match this level of stupidity. Which was what, eight years ago? Thank God he wasn’t stammering now like he did in front of this guy in school back then.

“It’s an app that’s helping kids to learn. Well, both kids and teenagers. We’re making some scientific stuff that may seem hard at first a lot easier. At least we hope to make it easier. So it’s just some interactive videos about physics, chemistry, with tasks and stuff like that. Kids can chat to each other, compete, win trophies, and all that. It’s nothing special, really.”

Thomas smiled lightly at that, and he looked like he replayed some of the working process in his head, and Newt saw from that look in his eyes that he really liked what he was doing. But apparently had the same habit as Newt himself, which was to underestimate his own work.

“Hey, I’m pretty sure it’s special, by the sound of it. It was pretty hard for me to concentrate in school and actually understand physics and all these important things. It can be hard to process, right? And when you don’t get it you feel worse, and then with some new material even worse than that, because it all just keeps piling up. It’s just a never ending cycle if you didn’t understand some basic stuff. So what you guys are doing is important.”

“Thanks, Newt,” Thomas smiled at him widely, and he saw these small and charming dimples on his cheeks again. God, this guy was unbelievable. Newt’s stomach felt like someone gripped his insides, and he wasn’t sure if it was pleasant or not. The sudden thought of reaching out and caressing Thomas’ cheek flooded his brain, but he fought it.

“We all kinda debate sometimes, it’s often because of humor. To make it more approachable for kids and all, you know? We wanted to throw in some jokes, or memes, or whatever they’re called.”

Newt laughed at that quietly.

“The thing is that it’s hard to keep up with all these new trends. Here, let me show you what we did a couple of days ago.”

After that their coffees were ready and so they drank it slowly and chatted like that for god knows how long. And it felt so comfortable. So right, really genuine and warm. The thing Newt couldn’t stand with some people is when they were these hypocritical morons, wearing masks and not being themselves, but some other public and these versions of themselves.

Maybe it was because of that he couldn’t get used to a new person in his life fast enough. With Minho it took about two years of college before he actually told him something really important and personal, like something that would keep him up late at night. The meaning of life and shit.

So to feel like he could trust Thomas with anything, really, was just a bit shocking. But pleasantly shocking at that. He decided just to go with his intuition on this one, because he couldn’t really resist the way they just clicked with each other perfectly.

When Newt actually turned his gaze away from Thomas, he realized it was really dark outside already. God, he completely lost track of time.

They just finished talking about something else so there was a slight pause and Newt spoke up, not exactly sure how to phrase his thoughts.

“Do you feel like we’re inside some romcom right now? I mean, meeting like that again?”

“Haha, yeah, it sure looks like it. But, actually, no,” Thomas touched his neck at that, looking down, avoiding Newt’s gaze. “I kinda hoped to run into you again.”

“Well, so did I, but it’s a big city, so what are the odds, eh?”

“No, I mean… I remembered the time we met and just began to take the same route on the tube every day for like a week or something?”

Well. Turns out Minho’s plan worked. Only it wasn’t him who actually saw to it, but Thomas. He decided that if he told that to Minho he wouldn’t hear the end of it from the guy.

“Oh, crap. That was the best time for my boss to make my schedule super flexible, so I left at a different time on each day.”

“Gotta blame him for not running into you sooner, then,” Thomas smiled, finishing his drink, and Newt thought that this smile is brighter that the sunshine. Fuck, when did he become so cheesy?

“That bastard.”


	6. VI

They walked to Newt’s apartment after that, even though it was chilly outside. Well, it was Thomas who insisted on walking with him. _Like a proper gentleman he was._

And when Newt started fighting with his own collar to make the wind more bearable, turning it up and not really succeeding, Thomas actually took his own dark blue scarf off and offered it to Newt. When he hesitated and mumbled something in refusal, Thomas just tied it on his neck, his finger pads brushing Newt’s bare skin lightly. He wondered how they were so warm when it was so freaking freezing outside. Not to mention the shivers it sent down his spine. Just like high school all over again.

They exchanged numbers and Thomas left, with Newt watching him as he walked through the street illuminated with street lamps’ soft light. They didn’t hug, kiss or anything like that and somehow it felt okay, like it was the right way, after they dived in so fast in the beginning. They still didn't talk it through, what it was and where they stood, but Newt always dreaded conversations like that, so he just kind of decided to postpone it. Or maybe never even have this talk with him, yeah, that would be better.

He lit up a cigarette just to calm himself a bit, checking his phone again looking at his Prince Charming’s number that was now in his contact list, smiling to himself. He absolutely did not raise the scarf a little more, covering half of his face with the soft fabric, only to breathe in Thomas’ smell, nope.

It was already past midnight and Minho was home when he finally got up to their apartment.

“And what kept you all busy on this fine evening, buddy?” Minho asked in a cheering voice, sitting on a couch with his laptop on his knees.

Newt dropped his stuff on the floor and took off his sneakers, slowly walking to the couch and sinking into it next to Minho.

“Oh, you know, stuff,” Newt decided to tease him and actually tried to keep a serious face, but he couldn’t stop smiling.

“Oh my god, you’re so bad at this. I can see there’s something happening. Come on, man, spill the beans.”

“Well, it’s nothing special,” Newt raised from the couch, suddenly deciding to have the final word and not letting Minho chat him up with some nonsense. Which he absolutely would after he heard about Thomas. But not today. “Just ran into Thomas again,” he said, making way to his bedroom and closing the door, not locking back at Minho who probably looked shocked as hell at the moment.

He laid down on his bed, staring into the ceiling, actually wanting to text Thomas right away but deciding against it. They both were adults after all, and what it would look like if he texted him after they’ve been apart for what, 20 minutes? That was just childish and ridiculous.

Newt forced himself to get up to turn his laptop on and work some more. He needed to finish editing this part of the script they worked on today and decided that he could let himself think about Thomas when he was going to bed after that. Not in inappropriate way, of course. But maybe also in that one too. Because, well, they already had sex and everything in Thomas was amazing, including his body, so who could blame Newt for having these kind of thoughts?

He sipped the cold tea from his mug with storm troopers on it, that was abandoned on the table. Being immediately disgusted at himself at that, but feeling too tired to go and actually make some new tea, so he left it at that. The taste was not so bad after all.

He was actually able to concentrate and make some notes and edit the script. He usually stayed up late working like that so it wasn’t a big deal. The firm he worked for was this contemporary one, always keeping up with the latest trends and publishing a lot of experimental works, allowing new writers and authors to make their break through. Sometimes there were actual gems in what they sent them for publishing, and Newt relished in all these words and rhymes like it was the best thing in the world. Because for him, it was. And if he couldn’t actually finish something himself, only having dozens of different parts, pieces and drafts all around the place, well then. It was okay. It wasn’t so discouraging because his main work was actually editing others and being this other pair of eyes that was usually so useful with texts.

But sometimes there were these arrogant authors with works that were not worth anyone’s attention. At least Newt thought so. He couldn’t work with them and his boss already figured out from the way he was behaving when it was best to pass the work from a certain author from Newt to their other editor.

He was satisfied with this way of things, because it kept them from certain incidents with authors, who just stubbornly refused to see his point of view. So now he was finishing editing this young woman’s novel, which was just amazing. He saved all the changes, allowing himself some more time to look it over tomorrow just to make sure everything was right, before closing his laptop and going to bed.

He completely forgot about his phone, which laid on the bed. Somehow it seemed that he would be checking it for some text from Thomas every now and then whole evening he was working. He huffed to himself, still not believing this level of pining he had.

Taking his pants off he burrowed under the blanket and decided there’d be no harm done if he just checked the phone quickly.

A series of new texts appeared on the screen as he unlocked it.

 ** _“Hey, so tomorrow’s Saturday, which means we’re both free. And there’s still ton of things I want to ask you_**. **_Wanna go to this new exhibition center in Camden?”_**

**_“Or we could just stay at my place and watch something.”_ **

**_“I guess you’re sleeping already, so I’ll just have to wait till morning to learn my faith then, right? Sleep well, Your Grace.”_ **


End file.
